


Prompt 22: Winter Wonderland

by irrationalgame



Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [22]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Broken Bones, Comfortween, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skating, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:32:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irrationalgame/pseuds/irrationalgame
Summary: Comfortween prompts from https://hurtcomfortex.dreamwidth.org/22946.html22. Winter WonderlandWinter vacation accident. Broken bone while skiing/sledding, hypothermia, snow mobile crash, avalanche, blizzard.Jimmy is terrible at ice skating.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Series: Thommy Comfortween Prompts [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949317
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	Prompt 22: Winter Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> Idk man, it’s a bit of a stretch from the prompt but here it is.

“Thomas, don’t you bloody let go of my arm, alright?”

“I thought you were good at this?”

“I might ‘ave exaggerated a bit, just to shut Alfred up. There’s no way anyone that tall can ice skate.”

“Being short doesn’t seem to be helping you much.”

“Shut it will you. You’re goin’ too fast.”

“I’m barely moving Jimmy.”

“Look - I’ve never ice skated before, alright?”

“I’d never have guessed by the way you’re clinging on to my arm.”

“I’m not bloody clingin’. I’m just...leanin’.”

“Let’s go a bit faster shall we?”

“No, bloody hell Thomas, stop it! An’ stop laughin’!”

“Just a bit faster now.”

“Thomas I’m warnin’ you! Stop it!”

Jimmy let go of Thomas’s arm, which was a very stupid thing to do, seeing as it was the only thing holding him upright. He sailed across the ice rink, arms flailing, and crashed into the perimeter fence.

“Ow, shite, bloody hell,” he said. His right arm was throbbing painfully - it hurt even more than his pride. Thomas elegantly glided to his side and offered a hand to help him up.

“Are you alright?” Thomas said, trying to disguise his smirk. “It’s like watching Buster Keaton trying to ice skate.”

“No I’m not _bloody alright_ ,” Jimmy snapped, “I’ve done somethin’ to me arm.” He took Thomas’s hand and allowed the under-butler to haul him up.

Thomas’s smirk had vanished, his face serious. “Come on, let’s sit down and have a look.” He gently led Jimmy off the ice and over to a damp bench. Jimmy tried to take his coat off but it the pain in his right arm was so unbearable he couldn’t manage it.

“Bloody help me, would you?” he said hotly and Thomas obliged, carefully sliding Jimmy’s injured arm out of the sleeve. He undid Jimmy’s cuff and rolled his shirtsleeve up.

“Stay still, I’ll be as gentle as I can,” Thomas said. He ran his fingers up and down Jimmy’s arm - it would’ve been nice, if not for the hot poker of pain that shot through Jimmy whenever Thomas pressed his fingers into his flesh.

“Ouch, bleedin’ hell, _bugger_ ,” Jimmy cursed.

Thomas frowned; “I think you’ve fractured your ulna - that’s this bone here,” he traced his finger along the outside of Jimmy’s forearm. “We need to take you to Clarkson.”

Thomas sat in the waiting room, worriedly fidgeting and blaming himself for two hours whilst Jimmy was dosed up on morphine and had his arm set in a plaster cast and trussed up in a sling.

“Can we please go home now?” Jimmy whined, once Clarkson had released them. “I’m cold and tired and my arm _hurts_.”

“Of course,” Thomas nodded, “I’ll pay for a taxicab.”

Jimmy shook his head; “I want to walk - the morphine’s made me feel a bit sick, I’m worried I’ll vomit if I get in a car.”

They trudged through the snow towards the Abbey, only pausing for Thomas to light two cigarettes. He handed one to Jimmy and said; “I’m awfully sorry, I am. It was stupid of me - the last thing I wanted was for you to get hurt.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jimmy said, taking a long drag of the cig, “if I hadn’t lied and insisted I was a bloody expert ice skater we wouldn’t have even been there.” He stuck the cigarette between his lips and laid his good hand on Thomas’s arm, “I’m not angry at you.”

Thomas stared at Jimmy’s hand on his elbow. “Thank you,” he smiled, “but I still feel badly about it.”

“So you should,” Jimmy grinned. He leaned in and said; “I hope you’re goin’ to be waitin’ on me hand an’ foot to make up for it?”

Thomas smirked; Jimmy was high, he’d seen it when working at the hospital. Morphine always made people a little loose, like they’d been drinking. “Course I will,” he said. “Carson’s going to have kittens though when he sees the state of you.”

“Pffft,” Jimmy said, forgetting he had a cigarette between his lips - it went flying into the hedge. “Carson can stick it up his jumper. It were an accident. Not even I‘d break me own arm on purpose to get out of workin’.”

“Carson thinks you’d fake your death if it meant being let off early.”

“He hardly thinks any better of you, y’know.”

Thomas sighed. “I know. I’ve only worked here for a bloody decade, you’d think he’d trust me a bit by now.”

“Oh yes,” Jimmy grinned, “he’s bound to trust the wine thief degenerate.”

Thomas tried not to let the hurt show on his face.

“Oh,” Jimmy said, “I didn’t mean because of, y’know, your fancying blokes or whatever. I wasn’t trying to be hurtful.” He grimaced and held out his left arm. “Here, you can break this one an’ all if it’ll make you feel better. Perhaps you should do me legs an’ all, might stop me puttin’ me feet in me mouth.”

Thomas’s expression softened. “Of course it won’t make me feel better you daft sod,” he smiled thinly, “seeing you in this pain is bad enough.”

Unexpectedly, Jimmy’s face sort of crumpled and he looked fit to start crying. “You really meant it, didn’t you?”

“What?”

“When you said you loved me.”

Thomas had to think for a moment to recall their conversation in the servant’s hall, years ago. “I did. I didn’t think you remembered that.”

“How could I forget it?” Jimmy let his hand rest on Thomas’s shoulder. “I think about it all the time.”

For once, Thomas was speechless. There was a long silence - Jimmy stared at Thomas with round, hopeful eyes the entire time.

“Why?” Thomas said eventually.

“Because no one even _likes_ me - they like my pretty face and that, but they don’t like who I am - an’ there you were saying you loved me. To me shame I just thought you were like the rest of ‘em. But then there was the Thirsk fair. And everything else you’ve done ever since has shown me you’re nothin’ like the rest of ‘em. You love me. And...and I‘m glad of it.”

Thomas blinked. “It’s the morphine Jimmy, I don’t think you know what you’re saying.”

Jimmy shook his head, his hand heavy on Thomas’s shoulder. “S’not the morphine. I always feel this way, I just...it’s a scary thing to realise I don’t know meself, that I’m different. I needed a bit o’ courage to talk about it.” He pouted; “Don’t like talkin’ bout feelin’s an’ all that.”

“You don’t say,” Thomas smiled.

Jimmy took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m tryin’ to tell you I - y’know, I feel the same.”

“And?”

“You’re insufferable, you are.”

Thomas smirked and raised one eyebrow.

“Oh fine,” Jimmy said churlishly, “bloody love you.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile like a fool. “Never thought I’d hear those words from anyone, let alone you. I never imagined I’d be so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Jimmy said, and he pulled their foreheads together, their lips scant inches apart. Jimmy wasn’t quite high enough to kiss Thomas out in the open.

“Shall we get home?” Thomas breathed and Jimmy nodded - his arm was starting to throb again, the morphine wearing off.

They walked a few steps, their shoulders bumping together, before Jimmy stopped and said; “One more thing; you better not break me heart Thomas Barrow - after all, you already broke me bleedin’ arm.”

**Author's Note:**

> Dunno what I was thinking with the structure at the beginning 🤷🏻♀️


End file.
